Solace in the Grain Room
by SimplyNikki
Summary: A story of the horrors of war, genocide, and finding true love. Follow Bella as she becomes a prisoner of Aushwitz and meets a man who is determined to save her. OOC/AU and Rated M for many reasons. angst/drama/horror/romance
1. Chapter 1

**Well hello everyone!**

**I want to start by saying that I love this story very much. I think it is one the most definitely needs to be told. I am more attached to this story than I have ever been to any other one. I was inspired by an article I read in the paper. **

**Secondly, this story is hard. Its about the Holocaust. There will be things mentioned that may be hard to read, so I warn you now that this fic is not for the faint-of-heart. This chapter is rather short but I wanted to post it to get an overall feel from you guys. I will be posting weekly or bi-weekly. I have not decided but I will let you all know. There is a lot of content for this one and I have actually been doing a lot of research. **

**This will be a love story as well. **

**Let me know what you think.**

**DISCLAIMER: _I own nothing Twilight. Well, I own a shirt. I got it for Christmas. Hehe!_  
**

**

* * *

**

"Men over here," A well-groomed officer called out while pointing towards a long line of men on the right side of the gate before gesturing towards the left. "Women there."

There was a little boy with red, puffy eyes, screaming as another officer pried him out of his mother's arms to take him to another line. The mother was yelling at the man and trying hard, to no avail, to get the little boy back.

"Oh, dear." I heard my own mother sniffle.

"Why are they putting children in that line? They should stay with their parents. It doesn't make sense." I inquired. I was instantly suspicious.

"At least there are some adults with them," She muttered quietly gesturing towards the line where a few old women were trying to console a group of children no more than five years old. "Those poor kids."

I squeezed her small, delicate hand in mine. "It's alright, mama," I whispered even though it was a lie. It was not very hard to figure out that that line held the weakest grouping. The already forming knot in my stomach began to cultivate, like a seed sprouting roots.

My father was silent as he took in our surroundings. He had not said a word since we were ushered off the train. He was staring at the front of the line, straining his eyes, to see past the hundreds of people.

"You both listen to me closely; stay together, if you can. I will come find you once we are through the gates." He looked doubtful. "If I can," he added.

My mother was shaky as my father began to speak softly in her ear. Whatever he said she did not like it because she let out a small sob and clutched his shirt, pulling him down and kissing him. It was a desperate kiss, which he returned. I felt uncomfortable by their desperation, it made my own fear worse. I felt the knot twist in my stomach again. I knew this was only the beginning, that eventually, my knot, a rooted seed nurtured by fear, will mature into a Giant Sequoia tree with each branch its own nightmare.

I looked away, giving them their moment of goodbye, a silently prayed that it would not be a long severance but I was doubtful. Nothing felt right about this situation.

_Not that it could_, I thought.

I saw a few SS soldiers marching a group of men out of the gates. The men did not look well at all. Most were malnourished. Some seemed to hunch over, in sort of a slouch that looked uncomfortable. None of them looked at the crowd waiting to enter. I took this as a bad sign. That they knew something we did not.

"Bella," my father called out to me relieving me of my thoughts, "Take these," He pulled a tiny pouch out of his waistband that he must have sewed in there. He looked around, looking to see if an officer was nearby, before dumping the contents in my hand.

It was three small diamonds from my grandmothers ring.

"You will have to hide these. Keep them with you. Do not let one of the soldiers find them."

"Dad…" I protested.

"They are confiscating personal items of value up there. We cannot lose these. They are all we have. You may," he looked rueful, "You may need to swallow them."

"It will be unpleasant, you will have to keep doing it," he looked more apologetic, probably at the thought of me having to clean and swallow them again after they passed, "Just don't lose them." I nodded.

As much as I did not want to take these, as much as I did not want to swallow them, I did it anyhow. We really did not have anything left. The SS soldiers who captured us rummaged our home; any item of value was seized. These few diamonds were all we had when we got out of this camp. _If we get out_, I thought.

My mother was still holding on to my father in a tight grip as he pulled me into his chest not letting go of my mother he embraced us both. After a long moment, he announced that we needed to get into our lines. My mother began to weep as he broke away from her grasp.

"No, Charles, don't…" She started.

"I have to dear. We do not have a choice. The officer will be back around any minute." He reminded her.

"I love you. Every day I have loved you. I will always love you." He spoke with such emotion that it was evident that he thought this was a final farewell though he would never admit it aloud. He leaned in and whispered in my mother's ear, too low for me to hear, she nodded but tears continued to slide down her cheeks.

"I love you." She confessed and turned back towards me.

"Bella," My father began and my eyes stung with tears that would surely come, the situation becoming too real. I did not want to separate from my father. I could feel permanence attached to this goodbye. I knew I would never see this man again. I would never see my father.

"Oh dad! I love you so much." I clung to him and could feel his suffering through the subtle trembling of his body.

"I love you, too, Baby Doll," he muffled into my hair.

"Get in your lines! Men there, women here!" The officer bellowed, and I recoiled at the sound.

Hurriedly my father spoke quietly, "Promise me you will do what they say, that you will try hard to make it out of here. Promise and I will promise too."

"I promise," I nodded.

"Take care of your mother," he told me. "I love you both very much. I will try to find you in there."

"Yes, we will try to find you, too." My mother interjected.

One more round of 'I love you' and the line of severance formed.

There was no telling what was to come, what horrors were waiting for us to experience and witness but I did not have to be a psychic to know that whatever lay beyond those gates would change us forever.

The knot of terror in my stomach made itself at home, its roots wrapping around my organs for a firm grip. I was unsure if I would ever get them out of that death grip again, I thought, maybe, this feeling would always be with me. Never again would I feel sound.

* * *

**Well? What do you think? The next chapter is very gruesome. Just sayin' BEWARE!**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and alerted this story. It means a lot to know you all liked the idea. Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter to you. I actually cut out a chunk of it because I felt it did not really fit well with the rest of it. **

**I should warn you now that this chapter is a bit emotional. If any of you are sensitive to rape, I have to warn you now. There is a rape scene in here but it is not graphic. **

**We will discuss at the end. **

**Also, I am looking for a BETA if you're interested.**

**Disclaimer: SMeyer owns all things Twilight. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2**

_So it's on into the lonely nights and all the rest of it.  
The empty space between me and the sunken walls and feeling someone's hand around my neck  
choking away the life that I have left.  
And I can finally see that the further I go I'm only treading ground that I don't wanna know._

_Certain Tragedy- Saves the Day_

**Musslemann** - _A destroyed man/woman, a victim of gradual extermination through starvation and hard labor._

**1943**

Our camp was overcrowded and each day the SS Soldiers were escorting large masses of prisoners, usually the Musslemanns, to their death, and each day, I was grateful that I was not amongst those men and women. I was fortunate enough to have the task of kitchen duties rather than the hard labor forced upon so many others. I sympathized with the prisoners that had the misfortune of having been assigned to hard labor. Many of those men, women and children did not last long. In the two months I had been at Auschwitz, I had learned that time was valuable.

My time at this camp has been an excruciating, frightening, heartbreaking and despairing occasion with no end in sight. The only exit from this dreadful place would be death. I only recently started to come to terms with the fact that my old life had ended or that _my life_ had already ended.

I had seen an execution at the Wall of Death (as I discovered it was named for the executions it held) the day I had arrived. It was of a woman, who could have been beautiful, maybe, before her imprisonment. Nevertheless, her time at the camp showed through her gaunt appearance, her facial bones stuck out in a way that sent a shudder through my body. Her eyes were so full of despair that on instinct I raised a hand out towards even though I knew she was too far away for my reach. I had wanted to comfort this woman in any way that I could. The way she hunched over holding her stomach caught my attention almost immediately. Through her shaky hands, I saw something that stopped my own heart.

The woman was pregnant.

_One…_

Before my mind could even process what I had just noticed the first shot rang out. I watched as her head thrashed back and she sprawled against the concrete wall by the force of the bullet. Time slowed as my mind tried to process what was happening; everything happening much too fast. The hand I had held out now gripped around my own stomach, as I watched a mist of blood spray out from her wound, unable to take my eyes off the horrendous sight in front of me.

Then I could feel her pain in my own heart.

_Two…._

_Three…_

The shots jolted my entire body and echoed in my ears, overlapping each other, as new sounds of the soldiers broke through. The SS soldiers used her as an example yelling out to the new prisoners that this is what happens when you do not follow the rules. I wondered what rule she had broken to warrant an execution so vile.

_To execute a pregnant woman._

It was the first time I had witnessed a death. It was a brutal and gory murder. I had seen a hundred deaths since then but that particular death always makes an appearance in my nightmares. Maybe it is because it was the first death I had ever witnessed. Maybe it was because she was pregnant. On the other hand, maybe, and the most likely, was because her death signified a setting in which I had no control over.

I realized then that the little knot of fear that had formed in my stomach would never go away. My life was at the mercy of these soldiers. Moreover, that my life, like every other prisoner in Auschwitz, was insignificant to these soldiers. To these….men.

We were disposable, waste, vermin. They enjoyed instilling fear and most importantly, they enjoyed dictating the lives of the prisoners. They enjoyed their role as God and there was not one thing any of us could do about it but hope and pray that the outside world would come to help.

I had never felt so alone.

My mind was constantly on my parents. I worried for my mother, whom I only saw at night in our bunks. I found myself comforting her more than she tried to console me. She had lost all hope of seeing my father again. We never did find him when we walked through the gates. Of course, that had not stopped our looking. We asked every male we met if he had heard of a Charles Swan.

The closest we got was a man who said the description seemed familiar but he could not be positive because he thought the man said his name was Chaimek, but he could have heard wrong. My mother was an absolute mess over it and I had no clue on how to help her. I missed my father dearly but I could not focus on my own pain when my mother lay in pieces beside me. Therefore, I only whispered her words of encouragement and talked about vacations to the Steins' Farm when I was a kid. I focused on our memories. My efforts did not help her.

I went about my work each day for the next few months, doing my duties throughout the days and taking care of my mother at night. The days blended in with one another and everyday horrors kept any sense of hope away.

I frequently recalled a story that Tyler Crowley, my old crush, had told me one time he had come to my house for dinner with his parents. It was of a zombie. I realized that I could relate to this creature. My life had ended the day I had entered these gates and I was essentially the walking dead. I did not even feel that I had a soul anymore; I was empty, half-existing.

In my head, I started referring to myself as Zombie Bella and even going as far as daydreaming of being a flesh-eating monster turned superhero. I dreamt that maybe I could save the prisoners by killing the SS men and then, eventually, Hitler himself. I wished vigorously that I could instill fear in these SS soldiers in the vein of the way they treated us.

Every insult, every strike, every death, I would yearn so intensely I could not bear it. In my eyes, every soldier here needed to die.

Of course, there were the soldiers here that caused no harm. These were the soldiers that you could see remorse and compassion in their eyes. They ached in guilt over their part in the horribly unjust punishment of the prisoners. In my eyes, I viewed them much the same as the murdering soldiers because they were not as helpless as we prisoners were. They could do _something _besides standing by and allowing so many people to starve, be beaten, raped and killed, and do _nothing_.

At least they could try to help.

Yes, as Zombie Bella, I had planned the murders of these men and women in such detail in my head that I was sure I was no better than these soldiers were. _When had I become such a monster?_

I did not think that life could get any worse for me. So imagine my surprise when a blond soldier cornered me in the kitchen . He told me I needed to come with him that he had special orders for me. Little did I know he was taking me down to Block 24 to the place nicknamed "the whorehouse".

Internally I was screaming. I knew what was about to happen and that had me fearful. However, I was just as scared that this would be my new bunk; that I would no longer get the nights with my mother.

Naturally, when I saw the building I froze. I did not want to go in there; it housed German whores and "honored" Aryan prisoners. I had heard rumors that soldiers took up relationships with some prisoners but the women were more than likely killed when the relationship was over. I had also heard that the favorites were offered food because the soldiers wanted to keep them "in good shape".

This was not the way I had imagined -_this_- happening. Never did I think I would lose my innocence to a man I had never met; a man I despised for what he was.

I tried hard not to cry but tears stung my eyes any way. I let the tears fall but I stayed as silent as I could.

The soldier was a broad shouldered, slightly attractive man. He spoke reassuring words to me and actually did give me food. It was a small piece of bread and cheese but it was more than I had had in the past few days. At first, I wanted to throw it back at him and scream, "how dare you!" but I took it because my stomach growled at the sight of it and I figured that if he was going to take my virginity I was going to take his bread. No matter how tainted I viewed it.

I had not spoken to anyone since that night. Even though he was gentle, he left scars on me that have left me damaged from the inside out. I was only grateful that he let me return to my bunk to continue my duties in the kitchen- thankful- that my new duty was not to stay in Block 24 like the one I had initially thought.

My mother, guessing what had occurred when I returned to my bunk held me tight and cried with me all night. She did not speak of it, probably because she did not know what to say, but I preferred her actions to her words. Maybe she knew it was something I would never want to speak of – ever.

However, I had passed this man –James- numerous times since our night at Block 24. I had never noticed him before that night but it seemed he was around the kitchen daily. He frequently looked at me with remorseful eyes, as if he had felt bad for what happened.

One day he waited until I was alone in the corridor of the dining hall and he stopped me. I tensed as his hand grazed my shoulder down my arm, his fingers tracing the numbers on my arm. My eyes were on his hand but I could feel his gaze piercing into my head and it forced me to glance his way. I briefly saw the same guilt-ridden look in his eyes bore into my own before I adverted my gaze back to where his hand stilled on my arm. He followed my gaze and with a weak sigh he whispered, "I'm sorry."

I nodded feebly and turned away from him pulling my arm from his hold. "Wait! Take this." He held out a small bag to me. "I, uh, brought it for you."

I grabbed the bag, mumbling a thank you I was sure he did not hear, as I nearly ran away from him.

As soon as I was in my bunk, I opened the bag. He had thrown in a peanut butter sandwich with honey, a handful of grapes and an orange slice.

Fruit.

Usually the fruit we got was half-rotten. A treat to get something that actually had juice and flavor. My mother and I feasted on it that night. She did not ask me where I had gotten it and I did not divulge the information. She did, however give me a curious look but I just shrugged my shoulders and handed her half of the peanut butter and honey sandwich.

James began bringing me food every other day or so. He was persistent on apologizing but I neither condemned him for his transgressions nor forgave him. I just left it what it was.

I would never trust him but I began to take his apologies as sincere. I knew what he was capable of and I was wary that he would try it again despite the fact that he had been trying to start up a friendship with me. I wondered his intentions.

One day, nearly two months after the incident with James, two different guards dragged me to a small alley behind the dining hall. I screamed as one of the guards placed his foot behind my ankle and with pressure knocked me down. My hand skated across the gravel as I tried to catch my fall but I landed on my elbow. I could feel the heat and sting of my injuries and let out another small cry before trying to get back up to run. I knew it was useless but I was trying to buy time.

The men were laughing at my attempts.

I could see other prisoners walking past, even a few stopped as if torn from what they should do, but eventually they continued on their own path.

My heart sank but I understood.

Just as the first soldier finally had me pinned, I heard a familiar voice.

"Hahn is looking for you both. He's in a foul mood." James rushed out.

He was tense and looking at me frantically as if he may have been too late.

My heart was stammering in my chest so hard that I thought it might burst.

"Ah, such a shame." The soldier atop me said to the other men before tilting his head to my ear, "I'll be back," he promised.

James, who had waited for the other soldiers to leave, helped me up.

"Did they…" His voice trailed off, as he looked me over.

"No." I said in a puny voice.

"You're hurt. Let us get this cleaned." He tugged on my good elbow.

I tensed, as I stood frozen beside him. He must have seen the fear reappear in my eyes.

"I'm not…I won't hurt you."

I looked at him incredulously.

He looked at me miserably. "I wouldn't do that again to you." He said pathetically.

The look on his face and in his eyes proved that he was telling me the truth. I was still in self-preservation mode and quickly retorted harshly, "I'll be fine."

I felt guilty as I neared the corner for not thanking him for saving my life. Not only did he just save me from two _more _rapists but also he had been keeping me somewhat healthier than the other prisoners by giving me food on a regular basis. I hesitated before I turned around and muttered "Thank you".

"You're welcome." He replied and then pursed his lips in contemplation. "I will try to get you transferred somewhere else. Somewhere safer." He looked directly into my eyes to see if I understood.

I nodded.

_Safer indeed_, I thought.

The soldier promised he would be back again and I doubted I would escape next time. I whispered another heartfelt "thank you" and turned towards the street to my bunk. I could feel James' eyes on me the whole way making sure I got there safely. Again, I wondered his intentions.

* * *

**So there you have it. I had wanted to add more to this chapter but I felt like it was already too much because of the content. I do not plan on making every single chapter depressing. I just wanted to explain what is happening around Bella. Brighter days are ahead for the little lady. Well as bright as they can be in an extermination camp.**

**The next chapter will be a while. I have a REALLY busy few weeks. Alert the story if you want. **

**REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!**

**I am looking for a BETA if you're interested.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys!

I just wanted to share with you all on my alerts that I will not be continuing this story. However, I didnt leave you high and dry as I actually wrote a one shot for the total story I was planning on writing. It is a true story that I had read about in the paper. It inspired me to write a fic on it but unfortunately I dont have the kind of time the story deserves. If any of you are interested in taking it over pm me. I will give you all my info and my plot line.

Thanks!

You can find the one shot here...delete the space between fanfiction and .net : **fanfiction .net/s/6983239/1/Solace_in_the_Grain_Room**

-Nikki**  
**


End file.
